- Feel Good
- 10th Apr 2026
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- 0 minute
Romanticising Life in Newcastle: April Abloom
April showers bring May flowers, or showas and flowas if you’re Geordie. But this April up North feels less… showery? There’s a warmer wind to it, don’t you think.
Yes, it’s still baltic in the shade, but I’ve watched the usually grey streets glow golden a little earlier than usual, and I can feel Newcastle… waking up?
“April” is closely derived from the Latin word aperire which means ‘to open’, and it really feels like whoever is up there has truly flung the windas wide.
Other than the roadworks that seem to be on every single corner of the Toon, and the Tyne Bridge paint job that’ll be complete by 2091, April feels like a hopeful murmur, a rebirth, a slowly vibrating promise of what could possibly be the best Toonside summer yet. But every summer up here is 10 miles past mint, so don’t take my word for it.
STARLING SKY DANCES
April is the month when birds migrate North, which is great news if you’re coming up for a stag do, or love kittiwakes. I’ve had ‘see a starling murmuration’ on my 30 Before 30 list for a fat while, and thought I’d have to trek to Idaho or Colorado to tick it off. But then, on a random half-cold, half-enchanting Tuesday in Newcastle, there they were, dancing over Great Park like they had nowhere to be and everywhere to go. Dancing like I had in Say When the Friday before.
Thousands of starlings circling pink skies like toon strips pouring from the Gallowgate, and just as majestic. So I guess I can tick crying my eyes out North West of Gossy off the list too.
APRIL PLANS
In case you need some “what shall I do with myself?” April weekend inspo, I’ll be diving headfirst into Tacos and Tequila at Blackfriars on the 24th, the book fair at Tynemouth Station on the 26th and the Spring Season Exhibition at The Biscuit Factory all month. Or just go for the Northern Rye + Quayside walk combo. Works. Every. Time.
DAFFODILS & LITTLE TRADITIONS
Three things that make April special for me: my Mam’s birthday, Dairy Milk Easter eggs, and my favourite flower being all owa Hexham (and beyond). “Dafty-dils” as I called them when I was baby Nooks, that folklore says should only ever be given in a bunch, because a single daffodil brings misfortune.
I’d like to think I know many things, like the most commonly stocked, locally-sourced coffee bean across Ouseburn, the sea temp at Longsands on a Wednesday in June, or how to reply to a “where’s the best hummus in Newcastle?” message. But, it’s taken me 29 whole years to learn that daffodils are (technically) poisonous.
Apparently, a cookery school teacher in 2009 mistook them for onions and sent 12 primary kids packing to A&E, and you shouldn’t touch them if you’re allergic to latex (steady). But still, against all toxic and life-threatening odds, we pluck and plant and pot them, across fields, in cul-de-sacs and on kitchen windowsills of the NE postcode, because loving things that could eventually hurt you is the magic of life. Is it not?
THE THINGS WE LOVE ANYWAY
We love a football team that didn’t lift a domestic trophy for 70 years because we knew they always would. We love biting a fresh-from-the-oven steak bake before our feet have left the Greggs mat, because who needs a roof to your mouth when you can have a nod of mutual respect from a tradie.
We never wear coats (ever, ever, ever) because freezing to death on the corner of Collingwood Street means less than the commitment to being Northern. We turn up to the Bridge Tavern on a Sunday without a booking, knowing it’ll be full, enter the Great North Run ballot year after year, knowing it’ll absolutely knack, and go to the same pubs for the same pints, cheers’ing to different weekends, knowing fine well Monday lurks in the shadows of The Beehive booths.
We still take the Tyne Bridge route knowing it’s one lane and a million more minutes to work, order Newcy Broon Ale knowing it’s for the honour not the taste, sea dip at King Eddie’s because it’s worth the Cullercoats Coffee, support local coffee shops even though it’s a longer walk from home…
LET THE LIGHT IN
And we fall in love. Every single day. With a person or a life or a dream that could tear our Northern hearts to pieces. And god, how bloody lucky we are that things could eventually hurt. Imagine a life where you didn’t try just in case.
Go flood your windowsills from Wallsend to Westerhope to Wideopen with yellow. Remember to look up once in a while. Give your Mrs more than one daffodil. Finish your Easter egg in one sitting. Water the seeds you plant and the people you love. Let the light in. Support local, and love widely.
Even if it knacks.
Beth @nooksofnewcastle
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